


Glass Slipper

by newmrsdewinter



Category: Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: Cinderella AU, F/M, Sexual Tension, ballroom intrigue, but with cool fighting montages in later chapters, general sneakiness and innuendo since it's niles, nohr sibs loving and protecting each other, political scheming
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-17
Updated: 2017-04-03
Packaged: 2018-07-15 14:19:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7225858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/newmrsdewinter/pseuds/newmrsdewinter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cinderella-ish AU: Camilla and Elise smuggle Corrin into Castle Krakenberg’s annual masked ball - but who's that dark, dashing thief brooding in the corner of the room? There's a spy lurking somewhere in the ballroom, and nothing binds a couple together better than shared danger, even if it only lasts for one night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. White Swan

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place a year-ish before the game starts since I've got Awakening kiddies in store for later chapters. If I delve into the actual storyline, it'll be in Revelations since it's easiest to write. So, minimal spoilers?
> 
> Localization names will be mixed up for plot reasons, mostly the Aesthetic, but please note that this story is very much about Niles, and not Zero. From the changes I’ve seen, they’re very different characters with different motives.

 

 

     "I can't believe this is your first ball!" exclaimed Elise. She bounced around the vanity where Camilla was fixing Corrin’s hair. "Isn't this exciting?"

Although the excitement had Corrin in excessively high spirits as well, she could only offer a thin-lipped smile in response. She barely resisted the urge to wince in pain when Camilla jabbed a particularly sharp hairpin through her updo to keep it in place.

In Castle Krakenberg, Camilla’s private chambers were a girlish clutter of discarded dresses, pots of makeup, and hair goo. On the bed, Elise was already dressed and fitted into her own lilac gown, and was currently twirling her mask between her fingers.

"Now, now, Elise," chided Camilla, but her grin was unmistakable. "We worked so hard to bring Corrin to the castle for her first masked ball. Wouldn't it be a shame if we were caught before her first dance?"

In hindsight, Corrin supposed that it seemed hardly coincidental that Flora had been called away for pressing business, that Jakob had caught a mysterious head cold, and that Felicia had “accidentally” slipped some sleeping potion into her bedtime tea, causing her to wake up dazed and confused in Camilla’s bedchambers the following morning. _Hardly_.

"'Kidnapped' might be the better word," said Corrin, but she blanched when dread sunk onto her chest like an anvil. She looked at her sisters despairingly. "How am I gonna get back to the fortress in time? Jakob’s hardly going to stay in bed for two days, and balls don’t end until -"

"I left him a note," said Camilla. She smoothed a lock of Corrin’s hair before chuckling at her terror-stricken expression. "Just a joke, darling. I'll have you home before midnight. Remember that, okay? Once the clock strikes twelve, we'll meet at the stables and I’ll harness my wyvern to fly you home."

"But I don't know where the stables are," protested Corrin.

Camilla clicked her tongue. "Don’t you worry your head over the little things, darling. Now wouldn’t you like to see how lovely you look?” She pinned the last crystal into Corrin’s hair with a small flourish.  

When Corrin turned the looking glass, she couldn’t recognize the stranger blinking back at her in the reflection. She wasn’t sure if her flush was from her own astonishment or the rouge applied liberally to her cheeks. “Is this me?” Her breath hitched when she turned her head in the golden lamplight, the crystals woven into her elegant coiffure catching the light like a net of stars.

"I'm afraid we had to take some liberties with your hair, darling," said Camilla apologetically. "Black hair is very becoming with your complexion, don’t you think? We might be able to fool Gunter, but Xander would recognize you in an instant!"

Corrin was too awed for words.

"Don't cry!" exclaimed Elise, rushing forward with a handkerchief. "We love you too, but please don't cry! You'll ruin your makeup!"

Corrin scrunched her face as she forced her tears back. "Guys...thank you. Thank you so much. I’ve never even _dreamed_ that I’d be able to do something like this.”

"That's only half of it," said Camilla, her lips curving into a knowing smile. "You haven't even seen your dress yet.”

Though Corrin's ivory gown was beautiful, it was stupendously uncomfortable - biting, pinching, and constricting everywhere. Her gloves - small scraps of black lace, really - offered little warmth against the cold autumn evening, but Camilla assured her that it'd be quite hot in the ballroom, and she looped a small fan around her wrist.

But the crowning glory wasn’t the dress or its plunging neckline - it was the glittery pearl mask.

“Oh, it’s gorgeous,” breathed Corrin. There were two white feathers fixed to the temples of the mask like laurels, offsetting the black-winged tips of the eye holes. She noted that they would hide the pointed tips of her ears once she tied the mask on. Towards the bottom, the nose was lifted slightly at the tip and it was tinted slightly orange, giving the faintest impression of a swan’s beak.

"Are we done yet?" whined Elise. "Come _on!_ We'll be late!"

“Yes, yes, we’re coming,” said Camilla placatingly. She made one last turn in the mirror and adjusted her wig, rearranging the fur stole on her bare shoulders. “Are you ready?” she asked Corrin.

“No,” she answered honestly, worrying the silk of her fan. “I’m terrified.”

“How ‘bout you think of the scariest thought you can think of to make you less nervous?” supplied Elise. “I always do that when I’m scared.”

“Like what?”

Camilla hid her smile behind her hand when she said, “Imagine how dreadful the evening will be if father finds out you’ve left the fortress. Doesn’t that sound lovely?”

Corrin was certain she felt her blood curdle in her veins. “Splendid.”

 

* * *

 

 

      In spite of everything, Corrin had stars in her eyes during the entire carriage ride to the state assembly rooms. Krakenberg in its entirety was vast to a frightening degree, impossible to navigate alone on foot. Since she was accompanying the royal family, Corrin arrived in full pomp and circumstance, complete with magnificent ebony stallions and liveried footmen.

After they disembarked from the carriage, Corrin tapped Elise on the shoulder. “We’re not being terribly sneaky about this, are we?” They were in full view of everyone entering the Grand Entrance.

“Oh, don’t worry!” Elise reassured her, tugging her hand as they climbed the marble steps. “You’ll blend right into the crowd like everyone else. See?” She gestured at the teeming mass of nobles jostling them towards the ballroom steps. “They’re not even looking at me and Camilla!”

“All of Nohrian high society stands on equal footing tonight,” said Camilla knowingly. “So Leo and Elise and I are exempt from courtly duties, to an extent. We can walk freely without anyone standing on ceremony for us - our retainers included.”

“Why?” asked Corrin.

“Because we’re as masked as everyone else in the ballroom,” Camilla replied simply. “Trust your sisters, dear. Didn’t I say we’ll take care of everything?”

Still, Corrin couldn’t shake her feeling of dread as she entered the vast foyer, but her doubts vanished the moment she came upon the marble landing of the Grand Staircase.

Her first reaction was to gag.

The overpowering odor that permeated the ballroom was a dizzying mixture of too many perfumes and the crush of bodies packed tightly together. Corrin wished she had four more heads to take it all in, but she was certain she would have fainted from sensory overload if she lingered on the bannister any longer.

Instead, she directed her gaze to the ceiling to rest her eyes and was awestruck again.

"What're you looking at?" asked Elise, trying to stifle her giggles. "You're standing in everyone's way!"

Corrin jumped to attention. "The ceiling," she replied honestly. "I didn't know they could do that." Her eyes were still glued to the paintings spanning the ceiling's length across the ballroom. “The pictures are so beautiful.”

The domed ceiling was impossibly high. Sectioned off in various patterned intervals, it was frescoed with a panoply of cherubs, lions, and gods milling about in the painted starry heavens. How did the artists reach so high? How did the paint dry without dripping everywhere?

"Huh, I never noticed it before, but I guess you're right," said Elise thoughtfully. "C'mon! We're gonna miss Xander's first dance!"

Corrin's ears perked in interest. "He's dancing?"

To her side, Camilla linked elbows with her and nodded as they descended the staircase. "Well, our dear brother _is_ Crown Prince. He'll dance the first waltz to open the ball, but it’ll likely be his first and only one of the evening."

"He's such a spoilsport," pouted Elise. "He's just gonna stand in a corner and _brood_ the whole night."

"I'm sure you can bully him into a waltz or two if you try hard enough," said Camilla lightly.

A blare of trumpets signaled the ball’s commencement, and the noise quelled into a low murmur. The crowd cleared a path to let Xander through the marble aisle. Given her petite stature, Corrin could barely discern the tip of her brother’s crown above the masses and the light blonde head of the Cyrkensian princess he escorted. By the time she and her sisters were able to push and shove their way to the front of the ballroom, the waltz had ended, and Xander was nowhere to be seen.

“And good riddance,” said Camilla, pressing a hand to her chest in relief. “If there’s anyone to avoid tonight, it’s him.”

“What about Leo?”

“He’s in charge of security,” replied Elise primly. “So he’s doing important stuff somewhere else. Let’s go find something to drink!”

Once the crowd dispersed, Corrin quickly learned that, with the exception of liquor, certain commodities ran scarce at balls, and not all of them were material. Ample space to breathe was as scant as gentlemen to dance with, and as a result, the ballroom’s perimeter was a staking ground for young women to loiter, gossip, and criticize.

“I feel so self-conscious,” she said, rubbing her arm. “Like everyone is glaring at me.”  

Humming in response, Camilla accepted a champagne flute from a nearby waiter and took a healthy sip. "Not to worry, dear. Masked balls are an opportunity for the court to walk and talk freely without stepping on each other's proverbial toes. No one will recognize you."

"Well, I suppose that's true," said Corrin, feeling rather silly. The excitement must have been doing a number on her nerves. "Not that I'd ever run into Flora or Felicia, or even the cook here on the - Who’s that?"

Camilla stiffened as a somberly dressed cavalier with silvery swept-up hair locked eyes with Corrin across the ballroom. " _Except him_ ," Camilla hissed, gripping her glass so tightly that the handle snapped.   

"I'm on it!" Elise zipped through the crowd and tugged on the cavalier's hand, scaring the daylights out of him. She steered him away from Corrin and towards the punch bowl, but not before Camilla yanked Corrin into the opposite direction. Her long, painted nails dug painfully into her arm.

"Gods, who was that?” demanded Corrin breathlessly. "Am I in trouble?"

Once they were hidden behind a large column, Camilla fixed her with an odd look. "No one important,” she replied, but stopped short when Corrin blinked disbelievingly. “I suppose we overreacted,” she admitted. “Sorry, darling. You are masked, after all. Could you blame a sister for wanting you to keep you safe?”  

Corrin shrugged. A near miss like that was enough excitement for the evening, and she quietly hoped that nothing else would happen for the rest of the night. “If you insist.” In this new area, she wrinkled her nose and cast an inquisitive eye to her surroundings. "You smell that?"

"Hm?" Camilla flicked her fan open, waving it in languid movements to cool herself. "What is it, dear?"

"Something smells off. It’s sort of musty, like your wyvern."

"No noble worth their title would come to a ball on a wyvern," said Camilla dismissively, but Corrin knew she detected it too from slight furrow in her fine brows.

Before she could finish her thoughts, a footman approached them and bowed lowly. "Princess Camilla, Prince Xander requests your presence on the dais."

"Right now? Surely, it can wait -"

"I'm afraid Milord was insistent. My apologies." He bowed again.

Camilla gave a faint huff of distress, but quickly regained her composure. She turned to Corrin and squeezed her hand fondly. "Have some fun, dear, and do stay out of trouble."

"I don't look for trouble," said Corrin glumly. "Trouble goes and finds me."

Camilla offered a tight-lipped smile in return and tapped her lightly on the shoulder with her fan before disappearing into the throng.

Left to her own devices, Corrin wasn't entirely sure what to do with her newfound freedom. She supposed that avoiding the cavalier should be on the top of her priorities since Camilla and Elise were so insistent upon keeping him away from her, but still. Who was he? She knew that her memories were patchy, but she was certain she had to know him from somewhere.

As the night wore on, the excitement in the ballroom had reached a feverish pitch, but Corrin was perfectly content to people watch with the rest of the wallflowers milling around the ballroom's perimeter. Behind the column was the optimal location to admire the general splendor, so foreign and so wonderfully pleasing to her senses from the silence and the dreariness of the fortress. She closed her eyes. The very idea that a single space could contain so much life was staggering.  

"This is yours, if I'm not mistaken." A slow, sultry drawl greeted Corrin from behind and her heart plunged into her stomach when she whirled around.

_Good heavens._

The man standing behind her sauntered forward with the loose-limbed purpose of a wild cat. He towered over her by at least a head and a half, and Corrin detected enough muscle behind his _very_ fitted waistcoat to be imposing. A crowd of people swirled around him, but as he moved closer, they unconsciously parted and cleared the way for him. "Am I mistaken?"

Corrin flushed deeply. "Oh, that's my fan! Yes, it's mine, thank you for returning it." She hadn't realized it was gone, nor was she even aware that she dropped it in the first place. _That's odd._

In the dim, flickering candlelight, Corrin detected one icy blue eye blinking at her from behind his mask. The man's tousled hair, as white as his cravat, was pulled back in a slapdash ponytail at the nape of his neck. His cologne was a dark, musky scent where warm cloves met a spicy tobacco that awakened her senses  - so unlike from the floral tones Jakob spritzed at the fortress.

"Take care not to lose your things, milady. You never know whose hands might end up in your pockets."

Blushing, she reached to take the fan from his proffered hand, but his fingers took hold of hers, and he dipped low to place a kiss on her open palm.

"Yours are immodestly soft, milady," he said quietly, low enough so that only she could hear. "I find it rather stimulating." His eye never left hers, ensuring that the tasteless implication was not lost upon her.

Her smile froze on her lips.

"Well," she stammered. She wasn't sure if her face could become any redder than it was already. "If the shoe fits. Or, well, I mean -"

Corrin thought she detected a glimmer of mischief in his eye. " _Oh_ , I assure you, it does," he drawled, grinning widely, "in more ways than one."

"You're very forward, sir," said Corrin matter-of-factly. "Are you playing games with me?"

"I am no 'sir'," said the man carelessly. "Your name, milady?"

In a fit of whimsy, she replied, "Ella."

A pause. "Ella," he echoed, testing the name upon his lips. They were finely shaped, she noted. "How fitting."

"Thank you," she whispered, not knowing what else to say.

"There's stars in your hair tonight, Miss Ella." His eye roved admiringly towards the tiny crystals woven in her updo.

 _How strange._ "And you are?" she asked politely.

"A mystery."

"Really?"

"Are you scared?" he asked half-mockingly. To her dismay, he let go of her hand, and once he did, she felt strangely bereft. "I'm _very_ easy to solve."

"No, I believe you," she said earnestly, fingering the silk of her fan, "but you haven't told me your name yet."  

"I believe that's the point of a masked ball," he said dryly.

Still, she insisted. "May I have your name?"

"Zero. My name is Zero."

Something about his way with words and the slight yellow in his teeth made her wary, but her unease vanished when he tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. Her heart raced. "I'm not entirely sure I trust you, Zero," she said unsurely, but the slow smile on her face said otherwise.

"A fair thought," he purred smoothly. "And a wise one, too. It certainly does put a damper on our relationship, though not one that I'm certain won't avail you to me."  

Corrin wasn't entirely sure what he meant, but her pulse snapped to life at the implication - he was _flirting_ with her. Normally, she would be put off by such bold statements and blatant innuendos. Though she may be sweet and naive, she wasn't born yesterday. Back at the fortress, the guards on the ramparts weren't much for talking unless they needed something, but she knew what flirting was - at least the flirting from the books Camilla had lent her. To have it happen to her in real life was jarring, and to her own amazement, she was utterly charmed.

He continued, nonplussed by her silence. “Pretty little birds like you have no business hiding behind columns. Is your card full, Miss Ella?”

“My card?”

Now quirking an appraising brow, he clarified, “Your dance card.”

Corrin’s fingers found the small booklet attached to her dress on a cord and she opened it, knowing full well that whatever he was talking about would be blank. “Uh…”

By now, she was keenly aware of the sweeping tunes of the orchestra warming up in the corner of the room, and the rhythmic patter of heels entering the dancefloor. “I have a space left!” she blurted loudly. “For a waltz. I mean, this one. The one starting right now.”

“How fortunate for contemptible me,” murmured Zero lowly. “I’m honored.”

Again, he had no compunctions about taking her hand so boldly in plain sight, leading her towards the center of the ballroom. He paused at the edge of the dancefloor. "Well," he said amusedly. "Shall we dance?"

 

 


	2. Dark Waltz

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Niles plays Sherlock Holmes and deduces more than he should.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Localization names will be mixed up for plot reasons, but please note that this story is very much about Niles, and not Zero. From the changes I’ve seen, they’re very different characters with different motives.

 

     Xander paced back and forth on the bottom step of the dais with his hands clasped neatly behind his back. Having foregone a mask, his naked expression, Camilla noted, was a touch too dour than she deemed appropriate for a ball. She supposed that it was impossible for him to shed his princely persona on a night meant for him to have fun and let go - not that she’d ever expect him to anyway.

“Camilla,” he greeted politely. “You look beautiful this evening. Is your center of gravity off balance? Perhaps your hair isn't big enough.”

“Hush,” she chided teasingly, smacking his arm with her fan. “I’m in disguise.”

“No amount of disguise will blind me to you, sister," he said, bending to kiss her hand, "even if you're wearing a wig." His lips pulled to the side, and it was the closest thing to a smile that Camilla had seen the whole evening. "You're acquainted with the ladies of the court, are you not?"

"Why, yes."

He nodded his approval and directed his gaze to the dance floor. "Who's the girl dancing with the thief? There are feathers in her mask."

Xander was too well-bred to point, so she had to crane her neck to find Niles in the crowd.

_Holymotherofgods that’s Corrin._

An icy shiver of fear ran down Camilla’s spine, and she stiffened, desperately hoping that she wasn’t white in the lips or red with fury because Niles was _touching_ Corrin. His hand was on her waist, and he was grinning at her like a reprobate.

 _I’ll kill him_.

Camilla slowly released the breath she didn’t know she was holding. “I have no idea. She’s wearing a mask.”

“Yes, I know that,” said Xander testily, his tone laced with mild irritation. “We’re all wearing masks. Leo tells me you were seen entering the ballroom with her.”

“Perhaps she was standing very close to me.”

“Or perhaps not,” he said, now narrowing his eyes at her. “Camilla, are you hiding something from me?”

Her hands trembled, but she found the gumption to give him her most withering glare. “Why don’t we take this to a confessional?” she demanded archly. “Do you have any reason to distrust me?”

“Of course not,” he replied, lifting a sardonic brow, “but you’re being very defensive right now.”

“Xander, this is a _ball_. You know, darling, it sounds as if,” she said, drawing herself up to her full height, “as if you’re keeping a secret from _me_.”

To his credit, Xander looked appropriately sheepish at that - he sighed deeply and ran a hand through his hair. A nervous habit for someone so dramatic, Camilla noted.

“My apologies, sister.” He looped an arm around her elbow and drew her away from the crowd so they could speak in private. Once they were suitably concealed, (and far away from Corrin, to Camilla’s absolute relief) he gave their surroundings a furtive scan before whispering in an undertone, “Leo and I have received reports about a spy among our ranks -”

“A _what?”_ she blurted, but stopped short at his expression. “They certainly picked the most appropriate night.”

“Yes,” he agreed frustratedly. “A rendezvous, but we’re not entirely sure between who. I suspect Hoshidans, but intelligence from our brother maintains...”

Camilla had already tuned him out. _Hoshidans! I dyed her hair black! I’m such a fool!_ Her heart raced. There were only four more hours until midnight, which was more than enough time for Corrin to slip up in front of Niles if she hadn’t already, and his reputation was bad enough for him to utterly _ruin_ her if he hadn’t decided turned her into Leo. The situation was bad on all fronts.

“...that a wyvern rider from the Chevois resistance may be culpable…”

“Wyvern?” asked Camilla sharply. Corrin had mentioned something about wyverns after their near-miss with the cavalier.

“Yes,” said Xander distractedly. “The spy is rumored to be a wyvern rider. We don’t know much about them apart from that, but Leo has alerted his retainers, and he’s sent them out to reconnoiter the ballroom.”

 _Oh_. If Corrin hadn’t been the girl Niles had targeted, Camilla would have been impressed by his shrewdness. Sniffing out an imposter in a masked ball was a feat in itself. “How very sharp of him,” she said weakly.

“Well,” said Xander, brushing some imaginary dust off his lapels, “I was only asking because the thief attached himself very quickly to the girl, and she _did_ seem out of place.”

“Perhaps he has other intentions,” said Camilla, and she hated herself and Niles for it. _I’ll serve his head on a pike._

“Most likely." Xander's nose wrinkled in disgust. “But loath as I am to admit it, he _is_ good at what he does, and by the look on his face, I believe he’s found our mark.”

Camilla, with an air of strained nonchalance, tilted her head towards the throng to scan the teeming crowd, but the waltz was over, and Niles and Corrin were nowhere to be found.

_Oh gods._

 

* * *

 

     Corrin flushed when she stepped on Zero’s boots for the umpteenth time. “I’m sorry!” She took a step back, but kneed him in the thigh when she bumped into another couple. “Sorry!”

"Easy on the goods, love," Zero murmured, shifting her weight in his hands. His thumb stroked the pad of her palm. Although she wore gloves, the lace was thin, and the heat from his hand shot through her arm and settled on her cheeks as a perpetual flush.

Every dance lesson Jakob had given her in the fortress paled in comparison to the electricity dancing between them, the way his hand steadied her, tethered her to the earth when her head was spinning from the excitement from it all. _A man is holding my hand_ _,_ _and he is not my brother or butler, and he thinks I’m cute, and I’m going to faint._

“You look quite feverish, Miss Ella,” he said, amused by her restlessness. “Ladies like you only blush like that when they’ve got something to hide. You’re not used to dancing, are you?”

Corrin wasn’t sure she could turn redder than she already was. “Not in front of an audience,” she said, scowling slightly.

His gaze settled on her lower lip. “All the world’s a stage, milady. The trick,” he said, both hands on her waist to lift her into a twirl, “isn’t in the footwork. It’s _pretending_ you know how to dance well.”

In a moment’s notice, her skirts swooshed against his boots, and her feet were back on the marble tile before she even realized they were off. “You do it very well,” she gasped breathlessly. She tightened her grip on his shoulder.

His expression was inscrutable behind his mask, but his smile was coy. "Are you surprised?"

"No, impressed. Where did you learn?”

He snorted. “The princess was short a partner during her lessons, and I had the misfortune to be lurking in the area.”

Corrin laughed. “I thought Elise only dances with Xander!”

Big mistake. “ _Prince_ Xander was away on business,” Zero said, brows raised with interest. “Now, tell me about yourself. From where do you hail?”

 _Oh, gods._ Corrin nearly tripped again, but she caught herself in time and mentally regrouped. “Well, Zero…” she said, taking a deep breath, “why don’t _you_ tell me about myself?”

His delighted grin told her that he liked that idea even more. “You want to play a guessing game? What an _exciting_ idea. I hope you know what you’re getting into, because I never lose…”

As they glided across the dance floor, he made a slow, deliberate appraisal up and down her figure, even going so far as to settle on her bosom for a second longer than appropriate.

“I see before me one Ella of twenty years who resides north of Windmire. She hails from a high Nohrian family, but lives alone in a decrepit palace far below her means.” The hand on her waist traveled up the bony ridges of her ribcage and settled below the small swell of her breast. It lingered there, and did not leave.

The ballroom flew by her in a blur, and her breath hitched. _How did he know?_ She found that his eye was fixed on the worn locket in the hollow of her neck, a gift from Xander when she was a girl.

“Her hair is white, and she prefers blades over tomes, though she has never seen combat outside the practice ring.”

Her jaw dropped. “That’s so amazing! How did you know?”

Zero waved it aside. “Two drops of ink on your left ear, and our hands sparked when we touched. I have talents with the arcane as well, but my gifts lie with bows. May I continue?”

“I confess,” she said, biting her lip, “I’m scared to say yes.”

“I’ll be gentle,” he purred, and settled for a sly grin. “Is your maid from the Ice Tribe?”

She must have given him the oddest look because he laughed, a deep rumble thrummed from his chest into her own.

“A joke, milady. Now, your origins elude me, but if I had to pick a place…how about _Cheve?”_

Although it was subtle, there was something different in his tone, giving the impression something important seemed to hang on her response. His expression was as inscrutable as ever. “What makes you think that?” she asked carefully.

“A stab in the dark,” he said languidly. “Aside from your accent, and your mask. Pearls are traded exclusively between the stone masons in Cheve and the divers across the border in Hoshido.”

“You’re very astute.”

“That’s not the only thing I am,” he countered smoothly. “But I digress. Your accent…”

They had been dancing for so long that Corrin hadn’t noticed they had taken the second set until the tempo changed. The music, which before had been effervescent and light, had drifted into a dark, sultry melody that sent the couples on the dance floor spinning madly like tops, but Corrin’s head was in a standstill.

“...you’re not originally from Nohr, are you?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Your accent,” he repeated for the third time, “is not native. I have no doubts that you are high Nohrian, but there’s something in the lilt and inflection of your tongue...that is _so_ decidedly foreign. Charming, of course. But foreign.”

“Is that such a bad thing?” 

“Depends,” said Zero. “Depends on what you mean by bad.”

“I was born in Krakenberg. What kind of foreign are you talking about?”

“Hoshidan,” said Zero much too casually. “Some Chevois nobles can trace their lineage back to Hoshido. Am I right?”

Corrin laughed - actually laughed. She searched his face for any signs of offense but found none. “Of course not. I never knew my mother, but she might have been foreign. My father is as Nohrian as they come, and so are my siblings.”

“Perhaps that’s it,” Zero demurred, but he still looked unconvinced. “Half-siblings, I suspect as well.” He licked his lips, pausing to gauge her reaction.

She didn’t flinch. “...Yes. How did you know?”

“There’s no one in the royal court with a coloring like yours, milady. Your mother must have been very foreign indeed.”

“I wish I knew,” Corrin said sincerely to her strange new friend. “So I’d have an answer to give you.”

“You’ve given me plenty,” said Zero. “Nothing I expected, but I’m always open to a challenge…” His hand, so large and warm in the swell of her back, tightened, fingers curling into her waist as he led her into the final swell of the dance.

“I hope I didn’t disappoint.”

“Perish the thought, sweetling,” he said gallantly. “You could never.”

After that, it was easy to fall into step with his hand in hers, and standing so close together that her head nearly tucked under his chin. Zero hummed softly in tune with the melody, and he guided Corrin so lightly on her feet that her shoes might have been made of glass.

Once the music came to a close, their bodies stood flush against each other. There was the hot brush of his breath against her hair when he tilted her chin up to meet the intensity in his gaze. “I think we understand each other very well,” he murmured lowly. “Although...”

“What?” asked Corrin faintly.

“I may have been wrong about you, and I’m seldom wrong about most things.”

“You were right in almost every respect. Wrong about what?”

“Your intentions,” he said simply. “Your expression…you hide nothing. I’ve never encountered a Nohrian so sincere, even if you’re behind a mask. What’s your game?”

Corrin paused. Ulterior motives and shadows, smoke, and mirrors - that was a world completely unknown to her, though shadiness and duplicity seemed second nature to a man like him. Life in the fortress never granted her a reason to hide her intentions behind bells and whistles until tonight. Jakob knew her well enough to see right through her, and her siblings thought she was incapable of deceit. What an unusual question.

“I’m looking for a good time, I suppose,” she said, surprising herself with her own candor.

In response, Zero’s lips cracked into his sincerest smile of the evening. “I have no doubts about that,” he purred, but his expression quickly turned somber. “We’re both not who we say we are, but I’m willing to turn a blind eye if you’re as game as I am. Deal?”

Corrin’s heart leapt into her mouth. “Who do you think I am?” she asked faintly. This was very important. “I have no idea who you really are.”

“No one, princess. Not the person I thought you were. And I’m not anyone worth the look you’re giving me right now.”

He procured two champagne flutes and presented one to her, not noticing or choosing not to comment on her pallid complexion or the sheen of sweat on her forehead. “Now, a drink. Something to refresh the mind and loosen the tongue.”

Wordlessly, she took one and quietly berated herself for panicking. Of course that was just an endearment - something thoughtless to him, but to her, at least for tonight, it could have spelled complete disaster if she wasn’t more careful. _He’s just flirting, he doesn’t mean it._

“I’ve upset you,” said Zero contritely. “You can punish me by leaving - though it’d be my pleasure to show you that my bite is _much_ worse than my bark.”

She believed him. And she had absolutely no intention of leaving him high and dry when things were only starting to become interesting. _Everything is just fine._

“No, stay with me, please. I can’t find my way across a dance floor without you,” said Corrin teasingly, finally finding her good humor. She clinked her champagne flute with his. “For a good time?”

Zero chuckled lowly. “I promise you nothing less.”

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> changed the rating because I'm not feeling messy gore anymore. "canon-typical violence" is more like it since fight scenes are much harder to write than I thought.


	3. Scarlet Woman

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a wardrobe malfunction, a moonlight kiss, and three close calls

     

 

     Over drinks behind a stone balustrade, Corrin learned that Zero was knowledgeable about a great deal of subjects that she knew nothing about, all ranging from recent Chevois politics to Hoshidan imports, basic wyvern care, and even Leo’s ridiculous sunburn from his recent trip to Cyrkensia.

“How on earth do you know that?” demanded Corrin, nearly breathless from giggling so much. “Did you get a close look?”

Zero couldn’t hide his mirth behind his mask. “My eye does more than just see,” he said vaguely. “I did warn him, you know. The worst of it on his forehead is hidden by his mask, but his nose is still red if you squint hard enough.”

“And he couldn’t use magic to hide it? Makeup?”

Zero shrugged. “He couldn’t persuade his tailor to make him a mask that covers his entire face.”

Corrin’s gale of laughter caught the attention of some people around them, but she didn’t care. They lapsed into a comfortable silence, the first that they had since their waltz together. Melting wax from a nearby candelabra indicated the evening’s lateness - surely not late enough for the ball to come to an end, but if the firelight’s flicker from the chilly breeze of nightfall were anything to go by, their time wouldn’t last forever.

And yet, the ball showed no signs of dwindling down. Nobles were dancing with more frenzied fervor than ever before, and now, the gambling halls had been opened. The air reeked of the residual smoke from pipes and cigars.

“Don’t you think it’s funny,” she asked suddenly, leaning her head against the cool marble banister, “that everyone seems to know each other even though we’re all masked?”

Zero hummed in response. “Can you ever truly say that you know a person?”

“Well…” she mused. “It depends on the person. I think I know my siblings better than I know myself.”

“That’s assuming they could say the same about you.”

“Yes, of course,” she replied, with enough conviction to surprise herself. Her thoughts drifted towards Camilla, who had taken such pains and lengths to sneak her into Krakenberg that night, and Elise, who encouraged her to take a leap forward and have some fun instead of wilting by herself in the fortress. Xander and Leo, who she knew would disapprove of such a risky venture, were stern, but no less present in her life. She loved them more than words could say because they were all she had.

“I find that our masks reveal more than they conceal. These repressed nobles,” said Zero, gesturing to the room at large, “crave the high you get when you’re uninhibited. Rather like a fever. Are your siblings here tonight?”

She nodded slowly.

“Some intimate observation may be advisable, Miss Ella. You might find that you’ll learn more about your siblings tonight than you will ever again.”

A streak of blue caught her eye from the other side of the ballroom. Corrin spotted a dashing blonde man in a butterfly mask exchanging heated words with someone in purple - _that’s Leo_. The blonde man, gesticulating madly with his arms, nearly knocked Leo backwards with his elbow. She would have laughed at the peek of sunburn on her brother’s nose if he didn’t look so peeved, but to her surprise, Corrin thought she detected the shadow of a smile on Leo’s lips.

Eye following her line of sight, Zero beckoned her out of the alcove and offered his arm. She complied immediately, threading her gloved hand tightly through the crook of his elbow. They began a leisurely circle around the ballroom, and Corrin felt safe from prying eyes behind his broad frame.

“What sort of secrets would they be hiding from me?” she asked curiously.  

“Everyone has secrets,” said Zero enigmatically. “It’s just a matter of finding them out.”

“I suppose that’s true." She cast the ballroom a suspicious side-eye. “Take me, for example -”

“- I intend to,” he said cheekily.

Corrin rolled her eyes. “You were able to see right through me when we danced. If I had anything horrible to hide from you, then you’d surely know it by now.”

“Hmm, I wouldn’t say that,” said Zero thoughtfully. “It’ll take more than a dressing down from me to uncover all of your secrets.” He might have winked at her if he had two eyes, but he grinned, his attention directed somewhere else. “Say, do you have any idea what’s gotten Princess Camilla so worked up?”

 _What?_ In her distraction, Corrin failed to sidestep something shiny on the floor and she slipped, biting a yelp from her lips as she felt the world slide beneath her feet.

“Ah, ah, ah!” he said warningly. His hand shot out to steady her waist. His reflexes were so quick, Corrin could tell he sensed her alarm without even thinking. They were so close to each other now, closer than they were when they danced. She didn’t think that was possible.

“I’m sorry, I’m feeling rather faint, could we…?” she asked breathlessly. They came to a stop by an open window, safe and secluded. Corrin hated to admit it, but she really hadn’t thought about Camilla until Zero said anything, not even when they were talking about secrets just minutes before.

Cheeks still hot with embarrassment, she tried to busy her hands by opening her fan, but she stopped when something tugged her back. _That’s odd._ She tried again. This time Zero noticed, and he gave a grunt of displeasure.

“You know, I’m never averse to boldness in a lady,” he said, trying to loosen his arm from her iron-clad grip, “but I must ask you to release my arm. Touching me there isn’t doing much for me if you’re looking for _that_ kind of attention.”

“I can’t.”

“Oh?” He lifted a brow. “What kind of game is this?”

“I’m not playing,” she snapped. She pulled back from him before a distinct skein of tension pulled him forward too. “See? My dress is stuck to your sleeve.”

An odd look passed through his face when he turned abruptly to face her, stopping short when he felt the resistance too. “My, this _is_ a sticky situation.” His delighted grin grew wider when he pulled his arm away, growing wider still when she stepped forward immediately to close the gap.

“A gentleman wouldn’t look at me like that,” she whispered crossly. “It’s indecent.”

“Keep calling me a gentleman, and you’ll have a whole new problem on your hands,” he replied, unable to contain his laughter. “How the hell did this happen?”

Corrin closed her eyes, barely resisting the urge to facepalm when the pieces fell into place. Back in Camilla’s chambers, Elise, in her haste to rush to the ball, must have forgotten to hem one of the seams to her gown. When Zero caught her from tripping just moments before, his sleeve button had twisted around one of the loose threads.

She threw a furtive glance to her surroundings. They had been standing like this for quite some time. Though there were other couples lurking nearby, none of them were embraced together like they were. Their quiet murmurs and scrutinizing eyes burned holes into her back.

Panicked, she placed a stern hand on his shoulder when he yanked again, harder, forcing herself still when she heard the traitorous rip of a seam about to tear. “Stop,” she whispered. “You’ll rip everything. My bodice will come undone -”

Instead of alarm, he licked his lips. “I don’t see how that’s an issue,” he said. “But if you insist -”

“I _insist_.”

“The lady insists,” he demurred, but not without a reluctant pout. His face turned momentarily serious before saying smoothly, “Up the stairs. I’ll cut you free on the balcony.”

With his trapped arm secured tightly around her waist, he guided her quickly towards the Grand Staircase. He grinned at her, seemingly unable not to. “You know, you really are the most exhilarating girl I’ve met in a long time.”

“Please don’t tear my gown off.”

“Ah, but what if I do?”

She gasped. “You wouldn’t _dare_.”

“I never pegged you as the type fond of public spaces,” said Zero thoughtfully. “But rest assured, princess, if your gown rips, it’ll be due to your own clumsiness and not mine.”

As they stumbled across the ballroom, their progress was slowed by the circles of dancers in the middle of the floor, and the drunken jostling of the nobles oblivious to her panic. At the foot of the staircase, she froze. “Stop. Let’s go another way.”

At the very top, Xander held court with Camilla, his arms crossed and lips pressed in a tight line. They had the perfect vantage point to scan the entire ballroom from above, which was what Corrin was certain they were doing at that moment. They nearly locked eyes before a woman in a massive peacock mask walked in the way of his view.

“Why?” Zero demanded archly. “You want to do it right here? Right now?”

“We couldn’t possibly make it up the stairs without one of us tripping,” Corrin said, improvising quickly. “Let’s go somewhere quiet, like -”

“- the gardens,” finished Zero, raising a brow. He swiveled, turning to search for the glass doors leading outside. She was yanked forward, pivoting in an absurd circle to compensate for the sudden movement. Her elbow jabbed into his ribs quite painfully.

“It’s a good thing your gown isn’t so big and heavy, otherwise this would be very difficult,” he said rudely.  

“My sister tells me it’s the latest fashion,” replied Corrin distractedly, leading him far away from Camilla’s sight like a dog on a leash. He seemed intrigued by her initiative, but said nothing. Instead, he paused, playfully testing the tautness of the stitch to catch her attention.

“What’s your hurry?” he asked languidly. “You’re trying to hide from someone important?”

“No, my sister will be _very_ displeased if she sees me associating with strange men. She’ll feed you to her wyvern.”

Once they escaped outside, Corrin nearly tripped again, unprepared for the palatial grandeur of Krakenberg’s royal gardens.

From the ballroom, the glass doors led straight to the top of a stone staircase overlooking a vast hedge labyrinth, stretching from one end of the palace to the other. Great stone gargoyles regarded the gardens imperiously from either ends of the staircase, and as they stumbled down the steps, she found that two more flanked the grounds below.

At the bottom, they were surrounded by rose bushes leading towards the entrance of the labyrinth. There were dark roses climbing those hedges too, and the thorny bushes towered high above Zero’s head, tamed into shape by imposing wrought-iron supports that criss-crossed atop the hedges.

Zero led her past a gargoyle, straight to a grassy space behind a stately gazebo. “Ah, here we go. Nice and secluded.” He sounded very pleased with himself.

Corrin shuffled close behind with light, tiptoe steps, careful not to test the stitch. “And I suppose you’ve got a perfectly logical reason to do this behind the gazebo and not inside it,” she said archly, lifting her skirts so they wouldn’t get muddy.

“Sweetling, if I said the reason out loud, it’d defeat the purpose. My lips are sealed.”

She rolled her eyes, but complied anyway.

They were completely hidden from sight. “I’m guessing you haven’t got a knife hidden up your skirts,” he grunted, trying to remove the knot with one hand. “Lift your arm a bit, princess.”

Zero somehow managed to maneuver his glove free with his teeth, pausing to examine where his cuff button caught her waist. He reeled her in closer. It was impossible to tell how many times the button wrapped around the loose threads.

“Is it bad?”

“Nothing I can’t handle,” he said smoothly. “But there are a few things I’d like you to consider in the meantime.”

There was nowhere else to look but up at his face. “Yes?”

“For one, we’re alone in a garden in the middle of a ball. Two, your hand is distressingly warm under my lapel, and mine is about to incite a royal scandal.” She dimly registered his trapped hand making languid circles in the small of her back. “You know, princess, I think it’s time you and I face some very _hard_ facts...”

While he spoke, nimble fingers eased the threads loose and the relief was instant, no longer threatening to tear her gown off, even though his half-lidded expression might have suggested otherwise.

“Now, Ella,” he purred, tilting her chin up with a single finger, “how are you going to proceed from here?”

“...We could go exploring?” Her eyes flicked longingly towards the labyrinth.

“Well, yes, we could. But I have something more fun in mind…”

His arms, now wrapped around her waist, brought her flush against his chest, tighter than the knot that bound them together in the ballroom, almost to a suffocating degree. Her skirts pooled against his legs as she scooted closer to him.

They stood embraced like that for a long spell, looking at each other and not saying a word.

Corrin blinked. “Well?” she demanded softly. “Aren’t you going to do something?”

“I’m waiting for you to kiss me,” he replied in a slow, lazy drawl.

“I think you just like seeing me nervous.”

He shrugged, but didn’t deny it.

In the end, Corrin didn’t think it mattered who was doing the kissing as long as it was being done, so she let his hands wander anyway. They rested on the flare of her hips. She was so distracted by the flush on her cheeks that she stiffened when his palm traveled up and down the sides of her waist, gasping when she felt his breath hot on her neck.

"I get that you're scared," he murmured, peppering her jawline with small kisses as he spoke. "It's scary to take initiative."

Corrin exhaled slowly and arched forward. "Then you do it; you take the initiative," she breathed.

"Much obliged, princess," he whispered, cupping a hand to her cheek. "Let’s have some fun."

Zero eased her head back with a tug of her hair, and parted her lips with his, _hard_. She didn’t expect his hand to shoot behind her neck to cradle her skull, his other arm catching the impact when he backed her against the stone wall. She was almost frightened by the force of it all, but she found the nerve to kiss him back, both of them breathless when they finally parted.

With one hand, he touched his fingers to her cheek, breathing heavily, dragging down her bottom lip and then tracing along her jaw. She tolerated his exploration for a long pause, then grabbed his cheek to force his lips to fall on hers again.

After a moment, Zero pulled away, rubbing his jaw with his hand. His profile, parted half in shadow in the slant moonlight, was closing in on her own once more. Their masks touched. His thumb brushed against her lower lip in tantalizingly slow movements. "Now _that_ was surprising."

"Sorry," said Corrin, flushed. "Too rough?"

He blinked at her, but recovered quickly. "I can be rougher if you want me to be," he murmured against her hair. "Just say the word." Without any prompting, she allowed herself to be lifted up, wrapping her leg around his waist so that his fingers could wander up and down the silk of her stockings.

Whatever Corrin was going to say faded into a hazy veil of thought as she let his lips slide over her own again, biting, nipping -- sharply one time -- and prodding for her to open up the next. She complied, and she felt his moan bubble from his chest. She was swept up in the moment, too spellbound to notice how rough he was, how tightly he pinned her wrists above her head to keep her wandering fingers from combing through his hair.

“You’re right where I want you,” he gasped, teeth skimming down her neck. He began to rock against her core, nudging a knee between her legs to open them. “Gods, I’ve got you -”

She heard something metal click audibly in his free hand, and she paused, startled. “What’re you doing - “ she began to ask, but he stopped. A sharp noise pierced the night from the landing. Before she could say a word, he clamped a hand over her mouth to silence her.

“Quiet,” he whispered sharply. “Someone’s out there.”

They froze, breathing heavily.

Two pairs of boots thudded against the stone steps meters away, and along with it came rough voices and the sound of a woman protesting loudly. Corrin caught the faintest scent of something musk and rank. _It’s a wyvern,_ she realized, and held her breath.

From their spot behind the gazebo, Corrin spied the woman stumble into the clearing, lean and petite. She was shoved off the bottom step by two shady-looking men. They were built like brick chicken houses.

With a great, heaving gasp, the woman tore her mask off her face, shaking her short hair loose from its silk ribbons. “Whew! Gods, it’s stuffy in there.” She paused to fan herself. “Top notch and glittery, but still. Real stuffy.”

“Now _this_ is an interesting turn of events.”

Corrin’s body went rigid with shock. The voice was so close to her. She whirled around, but it was only Zero, and he pressed his finger to her lips, effectively shushing her once more. She’d forgotten he was right next to her. “Hush,” he whispered. “Or we’ll be seen.”

The ‘we’ made Corrin a co-conspirator, and she bristled, stunned by his nonchalance. “Are you crazy? We need to call for help -”

She wrenched herself free from his grasp, straining to see the scene through the leaves in the bushes, but not before Zero clamped both hands on her shoulders to restrain her. “Careful, love, or we’ll get caught. Now, _listen_.”

The woman was still speaking, but her voice was high and tense. “...Oh, come now, gentlemen! Is this how Lord Marbury treats an honored guest from Cheve?”

“You’re joking,” spat one of the men. _“You’re_ the Scarlet that Lord Marbury shipped from Shirasagi?”

Her lips curved into an impossibly red smile. “The one and only,” said Scarlet. “And by the by, I’m from Cheve, in case you didn’t hear me the first time.”

The man frowned dangerously, clenching his fists until Corrin could hear the knuckles crack. It made her skin crawl.

“It’s alright if you didn’t,” said Scarlet conversationally. “I was just saying it because I did just fly in from Shirasagi. Prince Ryoma sends his regards.”

“Save it for Marbury,” grunted the other thug. “He’s waitin’ for you in the labyrinth.”

Suddenly, both men flanked her sides and seized her by the arms, but she shook them off with a surprising amount of force.

“Now, now,” she said playfully, though her tone was laced with a mild warning. “Give a girl some space to breathe. I know I’m a catch, but still, I like a little romance before I’m stolen away...”

The bigger of the two men loomed dangerously before Scarlet, blocking her from Corrin’s view. “Lord Marbury wanted you alive, but he never said unharmed…”

“Generous of him,” said Scarlet mock-seriously, but Corrin heard the quaver in her voice. “Dead men tell no tales, but they’re hard negotiators. Let’s get this over with before he changes his mind.”

The three of them vanished from sight once they slipped behind the labyrinth’s dark hedges, and Corrin could only breathe easily again once their footsteps faded away. “Oh - my - gods.” She held her hand over her racing heart to slow its beat. “What just happened?” She turned around to look at Zero, but his expression was inscrutable.

Gone was the teasing light in his eye, the passion from moments before. Zero let go a measured breath. He looked at her, then down at the handcuffs still clutched in his hand. “Well,” he said, straightening his cravat. “You’re certainly not the spy I was looking for.”

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks to @arihime for beta'ing this chapter and to @ellisama for the feedback back in July :D also, SCAAAAARLET! The very first draft of this fic was going to end right after they kissed, but I decided that I wanted to write some action, and I wanted to give Scarlet some backstory since she deserved more. Marbury is totally made up since using a canon villain would totally mess up the canon plot. 
> 
> lots of action in the labyrinth next chapter! also corrin is very pissed.


	4. Unmasked

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HI Y'ALL I'M BACK

“Ravishment suits you, love,” Zero said to break the tension. “Who knew there was a minx hiding behind that mask. I certainly didn’t, and look where we are now.”

The world went stood stock still. “You thought I was a spy,” Corrin said flatly, nearly shaking from the shock of it all. “You thought I was a spy, and you were going to cuff me, and - ”

“Oh, please!” groaned Zero, stifling a yawn in his hands. To her chagrin, he looked completely unrepentant. He leaned against the wall, twirling the handcuffs between his fingers. “I work for Prince Leo. His concerns are my own, and we were looking for a woman that matched your description. I had the misfortune of seducing the wrong girl.”

“But -”

“Spare me your preaching. If there’s anything I hate, it’s a nagging woman.”

They were still behind the gazebo, far away from prying eyes. White wispy clouds had passed over the moon, giving the labyrinth a cold air of indifference. In the time that lapsed between Scarlet’s entrance and Corrin’s rage, more men had stationed themselves at the ballroom’s entrance, effectively blocking their only way back in.

Even though Zero didn’t say anything else, the pieces began to fall into place. He must have been watching her the moment she walked into the ballroom, mistakenly identifying her as the Chevois woman from minutes before. He danced with her, seduced her, and then meant to cuff her and turn her in to Garon.

“Just because I think you’re cute doesn’t mean I don’t want to see you brought low,” he said matter-of-factly. “Do I look like a saint to you?”

“I _really_ should have let my sister feed you to her wyvern,” Corrin fumed, hands shaking. Her words were choked by a mixture of anger and disbelief. “And I should make my brother -”

“Unless your brother is Prince Xander himself, I don’t give a damn,” he said rudely, turning away to take a better look at the men posted in front of the ballroom. He stuffed the handcuffs back into his pants pocket.

“You idiot!” Corrin screech-whispered, yanking him back with a strength that seemed to startle him. “My brother _is_ Prince Xander!”

This declaration was met with a harsh laugh even though her hands flew to her mouth. “O-ho! Is that so?” Zero said in a mocking tone that she wanted to punch him for. He seemed to relish her panic, his grin spreading wider as she grew paler. “You do realize that impersonating royalty is punishable by death. You’re a dead woman walking in more ways than one.”

Blood pounded through her ears, dulling her senses as the enormity of her carelessness finally sunk to reality. Unmasking herself without taking her mask off - the only person stupid enough to make that mistake was her, and it was the one thing that Camilla had asked her, _begged_ her, not to do.

Zero, unaware or ignoring her discomfort, was still babbling. “....a Hoshidan gate-crashing a private event and fraternizing with the royal family, and then seducing _me_ to -”

“I”ll prove it to you,” said Corrin breathlessly, knowing she didn’t have much else to lose. A plan began to form in her mind. “You must’ve had your eye on me the moment I entered the ballroom. I came with Camilla and Elise, didn’t I?”

“You were walking _near_ them,” Zero corrected, but something halting in his tone indicated his skepticism. In the ballroom, he had already deduced so many things about her origins - surely he wasn’t so stupid that he couldn’t put the pieces together. That was enough to plant a seed of hope in Corrin’s mind. She had been careless all night about her siblings, and if he worked closely with Leo, then he’d soon realize that she was telling the truth.

“Don’t think I didn’t notice how you were trying to avoid Prince Xander and Princess Camilla on the staircase,” he continued. “It was painfully obvious.”

“That’s because….” Corrin wanted to retort, but she couldn’t say anything to incriminate Camilla too.

“Because nothing,” Zero finished caustically. “Enough talk. Take your mask off.” He was already shimmying out of his jacket, tossing it to the ground. He rolled up his sleeves up to his elbows, and she had to stop herself from admiring his forearms. “While you’re at it, your shoes, and all your jewelry, too.”

Molten panic swooped in her stomach. “What? What for?”

“Princess, there’s no way back in for either of us, and I can’t trust you to wait here and sit pretty while I apprehend that Chevois woman. You know,” he said, appraising her figure in a way that made her squirm, “the entire Royal family are skilled warriors. You wanna prove yourself? Do it in the labyrinth.”

Yes, she knew how to fight, but not well, and certainly not against real opponents. She stilled. So Zero didn’t plan on arresting her just yet - she still had time to flee and find Camilla. If she couldn’t escape Zero’s notice, she’d just have to wait until he turned her into Leo to get back home, and then she’d have to beg him not to tell Xander or Father that Camilla had smuggled her out the fortress.

She shivered. Invoking Xander’s ire was bad enough on a good day, but disappointing him by disobeying father, who had said in the most explicit terms that _Corrin may not go to the ball_  - that was nightmarish in its own right.

“I don’t trust you,” said Zero bluntly, stealing another glance at the labyrinth. Time was ticking fast. “And I don’t particularly care if you survive the rest of the night either, but you’re all I’ve got, so you’ll have to do.”

She closed her eyes. “Okay,” she said. “I’m in.”

He pulled his mask off, and Corrin hated the way her breath hitched when it fell off his face.

So there _was_ an eyepatch under his mask. He was handsome in a rough-hewn, weatherbeaten way. His jagged features were so unlike the fine aristocratic mold she was used to seeing in Xander, Leo, and even Jakob. Then again, she never spent much time with men outside the fortress, so she supposed they must all be handsome in their own way.

She forced the thought out of her head when he was suddenly behind her, tugging at something on the back of her head. Her mask came loose, and she gasped, “Not my mask! I can’t take off -”

“Please,” he said, rolling his eye. “We’ve already established that you’re an imposter. How can you fight if your periphery is blocked from both sides? Don’t tell me you can see perfectly well with your mask on because I can’t and _I_ only have one eye.”

Swallowing thickly, Corrin complied and pulled the silk ribbons, but she stopped short, clutching the back of her head with a mild look of terror on her face. "Camilla tied the ribbons in my hair," she whispered hastily, grateful for her sister’s extra precautions, but mentally cursing her for the conundrum they faced right now.

He groaned. "Again with the first names! _Princess_ Camilla, or else you’ll end up on the wrong side of her axe. Turn around," he instructed tersely. "This'll only take a minute."

There was something so intimate in the way Zero's spindly fingers threaded through her hair to loose the ribbons, a closeness that rivaled the kiss they shared before they were pushed into danger's pernicious hold.

But he let go a snide bark of laughter when her face was totally bare for him to see. “Are you _sure_ you’re not Hoshidan? Either you’re the best kept secret in Nohr, or your siblings are much stupider than me.”

“Do I look Hoshidan to you?” she asked irately. “I told you, I’m not!”

“I hate being told I'm wrong twice in one evening,” he said, still chuckling to himself. “I do hope you know what this is doing to my reputation.” He unbuttoned his waistcoat and took out two short knives, handing one to her and then forcibly pushing it into her grasp when she wouldn’t take it. “What?” he demanded.

“I don’t know how to use knives,” she said, planting both hands on her hips. “Swords, remember? According to you, _I_ _prefer blades over tomes, but I’ve never seen combat outside the practice ring,”_ she said tightly, parroting his words from an hour before.

Zero did not take the barb in stride. “Fine,” he snapped. He marched over to a pot of geraniums and pulled out a long shovel. “Use this.”

“That’s a shovel.”

“Yes,” he said shortly. “You could sever a man’s neck with this. Separate his maxilla from his mandibles, or cleave him right in the brain stem if the knife isn’t good enough. Your choice.”

“A _shovel_.”

“Yes, a _shovel_ , and they’re very good for digging as well,” he said rudely. “You can say it however many times you like, but it’s not going to change how this shovel, two knives, and -” He pulled something long and sharp out of his cravat, and it came tumbling off his neck “- this stick pin are going to keep us alive tonight.”

“Isn’t there another entrance to the ballroom?” asked Corrin desperately, hopping on one foot to take off her heels. She stuffed them and all her jewelry in an empty pot, feeling lighter already. “An open window?”

“No. I won’t risk an open window in a public venue, and the nearest entrance is on the eastern end of the ballroom that leads to the kitchens. Those thugs will be gone by the time I find Prince Leo.”

Corrin had no choice but to follow when he stole behind the entrance of the labyrinth, both of them concealed by its tall, dark hedges. Although she was not claustrophobic by nature, she was getting more than a hint of the feeling as she and Zero sped through the narrow paths. Running through all the swordplay training that Xander and Gunter had drilled into her helped relieve the tension coiling in her gut, though she didn't think they'd help much with the shovel she clutched in her hand.

"Gods, you're looking green," said Zero, stopping once it became apparent that she was lagging behind. He pressed a hand to her forehead. "If you’re going to puke, do it in the bushes where no one can see.”

"I'm not going to faint."

"That's not what I asked, princess," he said. "Even so, we'll have to press on before midnight."

Corrin's heart leapt into her mouth. She had forgotten about Camilla's warning. "What happens at midnight? What time is it now?"

"Fireworks display, so the castle will be at its most vulnerable." He glanced at his pocketwatch. "We've got plenty of time."

After that, they navigated the labyrinth with little incident, darting through the narrow hedges without pausing to catch their breath, save for the occasional dead end and the threatening crunch of boots against the paved stone pathways.

"Every end of the labyrinth leads to a different rosarium," said Zero as though they were taking a casual stroll through the maze. "You can tell which end you're on by the roses growing on the hedges."

The color change wasn't apparent until Corrin paused to look at the flowers. The roses at the entrance had been a deep, inky mulberry, so dark that they almost blended into the hedges they hung from. "They're growing lighter," she said, pausing to finger a violet petal. "I didn't know that roses could be anything but red." She turned to him with a bloom in hand. "Where's the center of the labyrinth?"

"Where the white roses are," said Zero. "There's a fountain there as well, so we'll hear it before we see it."

She sped up to match his brisk pace, relishing the feeling of the paved stone under her bare feet. “That Chevois lady,” she began, tugging the back of his waistcoat. “She came to the ball on a wyvern.”

The matter of how she knew this didn’t seem to interest him in the least. “So?” he asked, pausing at a fork to scan for irregularities.

Corrin huffed. “Well, _obviously,_ wouldn’t it be a good idea to detain her wyvern so she can’t escape?”

A pained look crossed Zero’s face, and Corrin could tell that it annoyed him to admit she was right. “Probably.”

“Well?” she demanded. “Aren’t you going to do it?”

“That woman’s here to broker a deal with one of the most corrupt lords in the court. So _obviously,”_ he mocked her testily, “her wyvern is the least of her concerns when I arrest her.”

“Shouldn’t you call for help?”

“Don’t tell me how to do my job.”

“You’re doing it badly if you caught the wrong girl.”

The words were out of her mouth before she realized she had spoken them, and to her credit, she was determined not to look contrite about it.

But all he did was shoot her a dirty look, pressing a finger to his lips once she heard the low grunt of voices on the other side of the hedge. She stiffened, shovel held tightly in both hands. The footsteps were heavy, carrying the sour scent of body odor and the stink of wyvern. She glanced at the hedge. The roses were lavender now; they were close to the center.

Once the coast was clear, Zero rounded on her. “If I knew you had a smart mouth, I would have gagged you and _then_ cuffed you.”

“Too late,” said Corrin, emboldened with a spirit she didn’t know she had. Even during moments of paralyzing fear like these, she still had her pride despite all that nonsense about it going before a fall. “You’re stuck with me now, whether you like it or not.”

“I suppose I am,” he said, and Corrin had to wonder if he didn’t sound annoyed by that at all.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is unbeta'd because I think Ari is busy, so PLS PLS let me know if you find glaring inconsistencies or mistakes. 
> 
> and OKAY i can explain! Reasons why this chapter took forever: I wrote so much bickering that there was absolutely no room for any of the action I had planned, so it's all coming in ch5. More importantly, I didn't know how to keep Niles in character once the ruse was out. And honestly it was killing me for the longest time because I KNEW that canon Niles would never treat Corrin so gallantly if he had a hunch that she was an imposter. Granted, this is a Regency romance Cinderella AU…so I can make him a suave softie and no one would really care (except me). I’ve been trying to compensate by writing him as a total asshole in my other fic, so if you’re reading After the Dust Settles too, look forward to that in ch6.


	5. A Matter of Leverage

 

Corrin gripped the handle of her shovel so tightly that she felt the wood splinter her palms through her gloves. She and Zero were pressed against the wall of a grassy alcove, sneaking a look at what lay ahead around the corner. Nothing they saw boded well; the shadows of the guardsmen pacing along the open path were prominent in the moonlight.

“Are they gone?” she whispered.

“No,” said Zero, craning his neck to get a better peek. One of his arms was wrapped tightly around her waist so she wouldn’t move, and the whole length of his body was nestled against hers to keep her close. “And they’re not going anywhere, either.”

“I see." Her spirits sunk. “How’re we gonna get through? Are we gonna set a trap?”

“Not unless you fancy a knife through your spleen.”

“O-Oh, okay. Then what’re we going to do?”

It took a couple of moments for Zero to gather his thoughts. Through the branches of the hedge, Corrin could barely make out the figures of a few guards who had stopped pacing. The other one must have been meandering aimlessly along the path. He was dangerously close, only yards away from where they were hiding.

Zero let her go and turned around to face her. “You take the one with the mole, and I’ll deal with -”

“Not the big one!” she squeaked. “I can’t take him alone -”

“You’ve got the shovel,” he whispered heatedly. “All I’ve got are these butter knives and my cravat.”

She scowled at him wordlessly in response, but she felt rather abashed for forgetting the shovel when she was holding it so tightly.

Time ticked by with agonizing slowness as they waited for the pacing guard to turn his back away from their hiding spot. “Let’s go,” Zero said once they heard the heavy footsteps draw further and further away.

“No, wait, I’m not ready -”

But Zero advanced forward, lightning quick, before Corrin could finish her sentence. He wrapped both hands around the guard’s head and twisted sharply before he could do so much as scream. After a sickening crunch, the man fell with a choked cry. The other guard had shouted and drawn his sword, charging headlong before Zero could turn around.

Heart racing, Corrin took three swift strides forward and swung the shovel in a wide arc. The blade came cleanly in contact with the back of the guard’s head, and he collapsed instantly. She was so astounded by the force of her own attack that she didn’t see the last attacker creep behind her with his sword.

 _“Behind you!”_ shouted Zero, tussling with another attacker on the ground.

Corrin swiveled and parried. The sword sunk into the wooden handle of her shovel and it splintered in half. The blade came crashing down inches away from her hand. She tossed the broken handle aside and backed away, panicked now that she was defenseless.

He slashed forward, and she managed to duck, but she tripped in her haste. As he advanced forward, she scrambled for purchase on the ground, backing away as quickly as she could. Before he could deal the final blow over her head, Zero wrenched his neck back in a sudden chokehold from behind. The guard’s face was soon purple from the lack of air, and after a few sharp twitches, he slumped to the ground, knocked unconscious.

“That was the last one,” Zero gasped, bent over his knees to catch his breath. His nose was bleeding, and he was massaging his ribs carefully. “I think I broke something.”

Corrin was still woozy from the adrenaline rush when Zero helped her back up to her feet. Her dress was torn in several places, but she didn’t have the sense to care about it. Something about the abrupt violence struck her in a way that unsettled her deeply. Later she would meditate on the absurdity of the whole situation, but she had never fought against real enemies before. She glanced at the men prone on the ground. One was slowly bleeding out on the path, and the others were unconscious. Their names and histories were unknown to her, and in all likelihood, they'd never see their families again. She was still overcome with guilt when she remembered that all of them had fully intended to kill her.

“They’re Hoshidan,” said Zero quietly, breaking her thoughts. He had stooped down to examine their clothes, searching for any identifying objects or sigils. “Hoshidans disguised as Chevois knights.”

“Are they?” she asked. “How do you know?”

He gave her a look of exasperation. “You’re a stubborn one, huh?”

“How am I supposed to know what a Hoshidan looks like if I’ve never left Nohr? I told you, I’m -”

“- Look at this,” he interrupted. He held up a small scroll that he had found in one of the men’s pockets. On it were rows of small strange characters that Corrin didn’t recognize. “You can’t read any of this?”

She skimmed through the scroll, unfolding it until the paper was taut at the roll. “None of it,” she concluded. “But Leo probably could. He likes to read texts like this whenever he comes to visit me.”

“Stop that,” he snapped, scowling at her. He stuffed the scroll in his pocket. _“_ It’s _Prince_ Leo. Don’t forget the title.”

“But he’s not older than me,” Corrin protested. She felt her mood lift at the sour look on his face. “Why would I call my little brother ‘prince?’”

“Because he’s not your brother.”

“He is, and I’ll prove it when you try turning me in.”

They were still bickering while they piled the bodies together in the grassy alcove. Zero managed to cuff two of the guards together and tie up the rest with some rope he had found where they were stationed. He was pleased to find a bow and half a quiver of arrows there as well. Now that her shovel was broken, Corrin took one of their swords and tested the weight of it in her hand. The blade was light and exquisitely balanced, so unlike the blunted broadswords that she used to practice with Xander.

“I didn’t thank you,” she whispered to Zero breathlessly as they hurried along the path. “Thank you for helping me back there.”

He paused in his tracks. “I didn’t do anything.”

“If you hadn’t warned me, I could have died,” she said, rolling her eyes. “So thank you. Leo would thank you as well if he were here. Both of us are in your debt.”

“We’ll see about that,” he grunted, and they resumed their pace.

After that, it took a surprising amount of time to reach the center of the labyrinth. The paths here were narrower than they were before, but the white roses hanging from the hedge shone in the moonlight like small candles, lighting their way through the dark. These white roses were heavily perfumed as well, and their scent enveloped all of Corrin’s senses like a blanket.

Zero was right; they could hear the fountain before they reached the center. Along with the gentle bubble of water came unfamiliar voices and the heavy patter of footfall. Once they neared the clearing, he pressed a hand over her chest to slow her pace to a walk. He bade her to crouch next to him behind a long bush, and they crawled silently until they reached an area where they could spy the people standing before the fountain. Corrin forced herself still and listened carefully.

“....displeases me how you come with no retainers on your person. Is it true that a shinobi from the Saizo clan serves him?”

“It’s true,” said Scarlet. “His twin brother serves the royal family as well.”

“Is that so? It’s a pity he couldn’t send at least one of them, otherwise…”

The lord that Scarlet was talking to spoke with a voice that didn’t suit his appearance. He had the dour countenance of an old general, and yet when he opened his mouth, he sounded like a weasel.

“Lord Marbury,” said Scarlet. “If I may -”

“May what?” he asked sharply.

She reddened and fell silent.

“The last Nohrian traitor to fall on Prince Xander’s radar was shortened by a head for treason. It’s a mercy compared to what House Marbury does to punish blood traitors.”

“And what is that?”

“We skin them.”

Corrin shivered. She looked to Zero for a reaction, but he hadn’t flinched at all. His eye was focused on all the men surrounding Scarlet, and none were Hoshidan. She was alone.

Scarlet tried laughing it off, but it made her unease all the more apparent. “Oh, you’re so funny, Lord Marbury….”

His silence was a thousand times more threatening than the guards who flanked him. After a pause, he pursed his thin lips and said, “Tell me what you want from House Marbury. It surprises me to hear that I hold assets that interest the High Prince of Hoshido.”

“We’ve spoken about this before, milord,” Scarlet said boldly, tilting her chin up at him. “Right now, I speak on behalf of Cheve. Our interests align with Hoshido’s and -”

“- And your supposed rebellion.” A small titter of laughter went up from the men surrounding him.

“Not supposed anymore,” she said. “I have the support of the Hoshidan royal family.”

“Prove it.”

Something was passed between Scarlet and Lord Marbury. Zero parted the branches the tiniest bit, and they caught a glimpse of her unfurling a large golden scroll. She handed it to Lord Marbury.

A few moments passed before Corrin heard him say, “I don’t see Queen Mikoto’s personal crest on here.”

Scarlet paused. “Do you not see Prince Ryoma’s?”

“Oh, his is there,” he replied. He rolled the scroll back up. “But that’s not what concerns me.”

“Then what’s wrong?” she demanded hotly. “You can’t expect Prince Ryoma to -”

“Let me hear your proposition first,” said Lord Marbury. “Then we’ll talk.”

Scarlet’s high, clear voice rang above the bubble of the fountain. “Milord, too long have my people suffered at the hands of a tyrant. Nohr is on the brink of ruin, and Cheve will fall if nothing is to be done. Your house has a history for treason against the crown. None of your men will be spared in the slaughter.”

She took a deep breath when he said nothing. His pale eyes were fixed unblinkingly upon her when as she spoke. “Chevois knights are known for their valor. As you can see, my men have skill and courage in spades. What we lack are resources - specifically, the ore found in the mines you own on your properties.”

Corrin forgot that Zero was right next to her, so when he started chuckling under his breath, she almost yelped. “What?” she asked, tugging on his sleeve. “What happened? What’s wrong?”

“I wish Prince Leo was here to hear this,” he replied vaguely.

“...Hoshido has a need for ore as well. They can trade you raw resources in exchange for your mines. Think about it, milord. Nohrian iron for Hoshidan crops, and -”

“- Enough,” said Lord Marbury coldly. “This is nothing different from what I’ve heard before.”

“This time it’s real,” Scarlet insisted, curling her fists together. “This time, I have the -”

He held up a hand to silence her. “Answer me this,” he said. “What lengths will you take to convince me that this isn’t a complete waste of my time?”

“Anything,” said Scarlet instantly. “I’ll do anything for Cheve.”

A sly look passed between Lord Marbury and his men. He pulled out a red leather booklet. “I have your deed, but I am only willing to compromise if you agree to hold up your end of the bargain.”

“Naturally,” said Scarlet, shocked that he might think otherwise. “What do you propose?”

A chill ran down Corrin’s spine when Lord Marbury smiled, but there was no trace of humor in his voice when he asked, “What do you say to this?”

Two guardsmen came into the clearing, dragging out a small, squirming figure in a lilac dress. All within earshot could hear her struggling before she was brought out into the light. She sported an ugly bruise on her cheek, and her hands were bound tightly with rope.

Corrin’s blood ran cold. _“No,”_ she hissed, bolting to her feet. “That’s my -”

“Get down,” said Zero harshly, yanking her down by the arm. “You’ll get caught.”

The shock hadn’t worn off, but Corrin squeezed her eyes shut so she couldn’t watch those men parade Elise like a caged animal. Her mind raced madly, trying to piece together the events of the night. “Camilla and I were with her the whole night,” she began, wringing her hands. “She ran off with that cavalier, and then Camilla left to talk to Xander, and after that, I  -”

But after that, Corrin couldn’t remember. She had met Zero and forgotten all else.

Zero rounded on her instantly. “What are you talking about?” he demanded. “You left her  _alone?_   So she’s been -”

“- She was with us!” she wailed despairingly. “I swear to gods, she was with us -”

“- Princess Elise,” Lord Marbury greeted cordially, but his words were laced with such twisting mockery that Zero’s jaw clenched at it. “How good of you to join us this evening.”

No one could mistake the terror in Elise’s eyes when she thrashed against the vice-like grip of her captors. She was muffled by the gag around her mouth, but her sobs were still audible for everyone to hear. Her eyes darted wildly between all the men caging her in a half-circle. Scarlet stood in the center, utterly bewildered.

Corrin fought through the rise of terror and panic and kept her mouth shut. She was afraid she might be sick if she opened it, but she almost shrieked when Elise’s leg came up in a clumsy arc and kicked her heel onto one of her captor’s shins. He buckled instantly, but the other guard slammed one meaty hand to the side of her head. Her body hit the ground as if struck by lightning. They forced her back up by her arms.

“Now, now,” Lord Marbury crooned at her limp figure. “Is that any way to greet your guest of honor?”

“What’s the meaning of this?” asked Scarlet, slowly backing away. “Why is she here?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” asked Lord Marbury. “I’ve done half of your work for you, so I expect something favorable in return. Wouldn’t you agree that kingdoms fall best once they’ve lost what’s worth fighting for? We’ve blades to spare, so I don't expect this to take long.”

Defenseless, helpless, Elise’s eyes widened in terror once the knife was pushed into Scarlet’s hand. She held it dumbly, not knowing how else to proceed.

With tears streaming down her face, Corrin yanked Zero down by the collar and shook him violently. He yelped and tried to pry her nails off his shoulder. “Save her,” she begged him. “We have to do something, _please_ , or else -”

A sharp voice cut through the night. They both froze. “Who’s there?” barked Lord Marbury, and his men began to draw arms. “Show yourselves!”

Zero placed both hands around Corrin’s face and looked her urgently in the eye. “I’ll distract them. You cut her loose and find Prince Leo -”

“But -”

_“Trust me.”_

And Corrin had no choice but to watch as he emerged from their hiding spot, strung an arrow to his bow, and faced Lord Marbury alone.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you ari for beta c: I'm kind of glad that I put off writing this chapter because I wouldn't have thought of the Elise thing at the end if I hadn't! I kind of forgot about her until I remembered that way way way back in summer, someone suggested that I get one of the siblings involved in the action to make it more believable.

**Author's Note:**

> Silas: MY CORRIN SENSES ARE TINGLING
> 
> so uh this story is the product of beta work for @ellisama's Fates fic 'The Forbidden Kingdom' (go read it!) and too many regency romance novels. I'm not attached to any particular time period in this story, but dance cards were very much a thing in 19th century Vienna (and England too? I'm not a history major), and I had something from Sofia Coppola's 'Marie Antoinette' in mind for Corrin's dress and Camilla's wig. 
> 
> Big thanks to @Arihime for beta'ing this chapter!


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